


The Target

by Parkychu



Category: Assassin's Creed, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), M/M, Modern Assassins, POV Eren Yeager, POV Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4505442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parkychu/pseuds/Parkychu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi Ackerman is the best of his kind, virtually undetectable in sound and movement. His attacks were quick, swift, yet fatal to the target in question. His one mistake twelve years previous had driven him to never make a mistake again. Over those years, he earned the name ‘Raven’s Shadow’ through his incredible efforts for the Alliance. When it came to modern day Assassins, he was the one to fear. The mere suggestion that the corporal would hesitate to kill a target was ridiculous, ludicrous to even think. Why would those twenty or so years be put to waste? What could dampen the fire that raged within, when it burnt everything it encountered? For so long, the raven soldier had tricked himself into believing nothing could faze him.<br/>He was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This fanfiction's storyline is based off my girlfriend Ellie's idea. Credit to her for helping me with the storyline.  
> So, This is my first fanfiction I've written and decided to publish, so sorry if it's not up to usual standards! I'll try hard to update every week, and I plan to finish this work. If you want to help me edit, feel free to email me here: ellaparkinsonmearns@gmai.com Remember guys, i'm new to this website when it comes to writing on it, so if you want to nudge me when i'm getting off track please do. The plot isn't entirely finished, so if you have ideas of you own you can email them to me :3 I hope you'll all enjoy this fanfiction, now get reading! (if you want to) I plan to update every week around wednesday, but i may update every 2 or 3 days, as it's currently summer.

Emotion was something Levi had hidden away, ignored and neglected. Not even the deep grey of his eyes would give insight to his thoughts or feelings. No, you’d only ever get a glimpse of what the corporal through snide comments and bitter retorts.  
This cold mask had enabled the corporal to shove out emotion all his life. His background was harsh and bleak, one that quickly taught him to hide emotion from all… even from himself.  
Only under rare circumstances would this mask fall. It had fallen once over the past twenty years. And that one time was when regret had filled him, flashing across his eyes as the pain engulfed him.  
It had been twelve years previous, he had been sent on a mission with his fellow assassins, the first harder mission he had encountered. Isabel (a training assassin) and Farlan (his fellow assassin) accompanied him on this mission, who were to watch from in front. Isabel walked behind Farlan, a young assassins who was only to interfere if necessary.  
Levi approached the Target from behind, a rich man with the goal of power and greed. These men, women and crazed political figures where the only ones to be killed by the assassins. They weren’t available for hire, and only killed those who deserved it.  
When he was stood directly behind the Target in question, he drew is hidden blade and sliced through his throat, his gloved hand pressed against the dying man’s mouth as he lowered the target to the ground, successfully hiding the body in the dirty alleyway that made Levi shiver with disgust.  
When Levi had returned, he nodded to his comrades and signalled them to turn, walking with them. He hadn’t expected what happened next. the target hadn’t died fully, rather taken his gun from his pocket and pointing it at his attacker, and firing.  
The bullet missed.  
Levi watched in horror as the bullet tore through Farlan’s spine, tearing through his chest and firing into Isabel’s skull, killing her instantly. The two fell to the ground, dead and dying, both had succumbed to the same fate.  
It was then that the steel eyed soldier’s mask fell, regret overwhelming him as he watched his only friends die with no chance of regaining their life.  
As an assassin, it was near impossible to carry a body while climbing, let alone two. He had no choice but to leave his comrades, his friends, behind, to soak in their own blood.  
Yet, this had all been in the past, and since then the raven haired soldier had become colder than ever. He reinforced boundaries only those two could ever break down. The two that were gone because of him.  
Yet all the effort he lacked in socialising went into vigorous improvement of his technique. Soon the secluded soldier become the most skilled of his kind, virtually undetectable in sound and movement. His attacks were quick, swift, yet fatal to the target in question. His one mistake twelve years previous had driven him to never make a mistake again. Over those years, he earned the name ‘Raven’s Shadow’ through his incredible efforts for the Alliance.  
The mere suggestion that the corporal would hesitate to kill a target was ridiculous, ludicrous to even think. Why would those twenty or so years be put to waste? What could dampen the fire that raged within, when it burnt everything it encountered? For so long, the raven soldier had tricked himself into believing nothing could faze him.  
He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter isn't very long at all, It is only the prologue and a little back story for Levi. Chapter 2 may not be s long either as it's Eren's introduction, but we'll see. I'll try and make the chapters longer as time goes on and i get more used to writing on here... I'm still a little shy about my work. Please comment feedback on the fanfiction the whole way through, I'll need the guidance from what my readers want! Thanks guys :3


	2. Mournful Memories (Eren's POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren helps out, and it doesn't go well. (Eren's pov)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, second chapter of this story :3 I dedicate this to mavinsmavin as she requested Eren's POV. Here it is, as promised! Thanks to everyone who's read this so far, it's making me smile beyond belief :3

The city centre bustled with life, the area densely overpopulated and crowded with people of all kinds. All with their own stories. He often pondered over what their stories could be.  
Entering the sparsely populated tube, Eren placed his backpack on his lap, sighing as he settled down to wait for his stop. To his left, he could see an elderly woman, her hands shaking as she she held her head in one palm, her other hand gripping onto an old black and white photograph. Her clothes were old, deteriorated, wasting away on her frame. A tattered scarf lay across her lap, aged with memories and worn with use, an ornament of a past occurrence she couldn’t forget. Wet tears glistened as they ran down her cheeks, following the path of her veins as tear tracks formed.  
The photograph was of a young man and women, the man dressed in army wear, the women in a waitresses dress and a bow in her hair. It seemed to be early evening, the two sat on the end of an old pier, legs dangling over the sides. The women in the photo seemed younger, full of life and newly found love for the man as she was kissing his cheek in the photo. The man seemed as if this women blew away all fear he felt for what was to come, and seemed hopeful he could return the the girl with the bow in her hair.  
A gust of wind blew the photograph from her frail fingers, blowing it across the tube, out of her reach. Desperation filled her hazel eyes as she made numerous attempts to retrieve the photo, yet to no prevail.  
Eren moved fast, standing sharply and ignoring his backpack as it fell to the ground, pushing past people to reach the photo. Leaning down and retrieving the photo proved victory enough as he sighed a breath of relief. He manouvered himself back towards his seat, picking up the discarded backpack and resting it on the seat.  
Grabbing the pole next to him, his attention turned back to the elderly woman. He saw that yet more tears had ran down her cheeks, wiped by her sleeve raggedly yet painfully obvious. The image tore at Eren, the harsh bleak reality of this world reflected before him.  
Yet, as always, his mind was plagued with stories, wondering what could mean so much to her about the photo. Was it the possibility that she had lost the man? Or was she just wistful for that time to return? Eren would often ponder stories like this for hours, writing them out on discarded notes he kept strewn across his room.  
Reality shook back around him as the tube jolted, making the teen nearly lose his balance. He had to return the photo.  
“Excuse me miss, but I saw your photograph fly away, so retrieved it for you”  
Eren’s voice was gentle and caring, laced with comfort as he placed the worn photo in her open palm.  
“Oh my… Thank you my dear”  
She replied, her voice cracking in surprise and pain. At this point she looked up, and her eyes flashed with distant recognition. Eren tensed upon seeing this, knowing a vague idea of what was to come from the stranger. God, did he wish it wasn’t.  
“Aren’t you the son of Grisha? Grisha Jaegar?”  
Annoyance prickled under the teens skin, burning through his skin. It always came to that man. All he wanted, for one damn time, was for someone to remember Eren for who he was. Not for that man. Not for the man he refused to call his father.  
“Yes. I am.”  
His reply was bitter, hatred evident in his voice. Why did she care?  
“It seems you two don’t get on, dear. I can’t imagine it was easy after Carla…”  
She paused, swallowing uncomfortably. Her voice shook as she continued.  
“It’s known your father became obsessed with his work. It must have been hard on you both. You’ve only got each other now. He may have millions now, and to me it seems something good came from your mother’s passing”  
Anger swelled in Eren at her words. How dare she even… He turned, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder roughly. A growl rose in his throat as he faced her once more, retorting.  
“You know nothing.”  
With that, the teen stormed off the tube, disregarding he didn’t have a clue which stop he had stormed off at, or where he was going. He shoved through the crowds, scanning his oyster card on the reader and submerging in the streets of London.  
The sky was grey with cloud, typical of London weather, yet Eren didn’t care. London was a maze of streets and alleyways, a dangerous place to wander at 6 in the evening, darkness threatening to spill within the hour. It was early October, the days already cold and bitter. Alleyways served private though, so the teen turned down the first empty one he encountered and rested against the wall. Tears ran down his face, warm on his cold cheeks. His sobs racked through his frame, making mist clouds in the air as he slid down the brick wall. Water oaked through his dark jeans, yet he didn’t move.  
Emotions overwhelmed him, a common problem Eren encountered. He couldn’t hide his emotions, he was easy to read. Thoughts preyed on his consciousness, thoughts of his father, his mother, the destruction left behind that was him.  
Once upon a time, they were a happy family, the sort you’d find on TV. They had frequent family nights, days out, pancake days, day trips, anything you could dream a happy family does. He was surrounded by love and joy.  
When Eren was 6, his father began to go on occasional work trips over the weekend. Those weekends were the ones he treasured. He spent them with his mother, watching movies he chose with popcorn and laughter.  
When he was 8, his parents adopted a girl. She was his age, and named Mikasa. They were friends in days, and Eren gave her his favourite scarf as a welcome gift. Mikasa and Eren were best friends with a boy called Armin, and they spent years together, the time of his life.  
And then everything changed.  
It was a usual Friday morning, pancakes and kisses, goodbyes and hugs. Carla was as she always was, supportive and kind of her children. Such a delicate woman, beautiful, undeserving. Yet life was cruel.  
Eren and Mikasa were pulled out of 5th period, at 2:12pm. Grisha drove them to Trost general hospital, unusually silent for the journey. Although Eren was afraid, he thought it was his grandmother who had succumbed to serious injury.  
Yet, where was his mother? Surely she was already there, that’s why she wasn’t with them.  
He never thought she was there because it was her he was saying his goodbyes to.  
Facts and dates were what most of his memory consisted of. Car crash, spinal and head injuries, fatal within hours. The rest of his memory was a blur, but his mother’s last words stuck out to him.  
“Be careful, the world can be a cruel place. Remember, you suffer pain for the ones you love.”  
He never saw her again.  
From that day forth, Grisha became a self invested, greedy, over working, powerful man. The type of man you avoid at all costs. The type of person set as a villain in the movies Eren used to watch with his mother.  
Mikasa was sent off to a boarding school for girls, leaving 14 year old Eren on his own. Armin kept him afloat with the anger problems he developed, breaking up fights with him and Jean, an asshole at their school.  
Yet Armin was an artist, and spent weeks working on projects, less and less time free to spend with Eren. As years went by, Eren became more alone than he had ever been, secluding himself from the words for as long as he could. Days, weeks, months, periods of time didn’t matter anymore.  
At the age of 19, Eren had learnt his mother’s ways. All the pain he felt went into fuelling his kindness to strangers, the real way he wanted to be known for. He was intelligent (to a point), loyal, a good friend. Some called him attractive for his tan skin, brown messy locks and eyes of the caribbean sea. Very much like his mother…  
By now, his only worries were those tied to his loneliness, family and past. He had nothing to fear. He was in no danger by how he lived his life, stayed out of trouble (apart from fighting with Jean) and wouldn’t get too hurt. His job in the local coffee shop was easy, and stable. He was safe.  
Or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I'm planning on dedicating chapters to readers who stick out to me, so once again, thanks to mavinsmavin! It's longer than the first as promised, and I hope i can keep this up :3 Still shy and new to this, so remember to tell me if I go off track, or if you want to inform me of any ideas you want in the story, email me here: ellaparkinsonmearns@gmail.com Bye for now guys! Love you all :3


	3. Authors note

I'm incredibly sorry for the lack of chapters after my first two, and it's been 6 months around since I've started this story. I've been really busy, and I've only really just gotten around to writing again. 

So, the golden question:   
Does anyone want me to update? At all?

I have a few other stories in mind, Ships such as Septiplier, Phan, etc, but I'm more than happy to write Erevi. Or continue this, if it's wanted. 

The only thing I'd ask is to bear with me. I'm sorry for the delay, and if you were waiting then would you like me to update? 

Any ideas on more of a plot or ending would be much appreciated. I might turn this into a smaller chaptered one and focus on one shots. 

Thank you all for standing by, andI shall see you all soon. 

For now, Parkychu out.


End file.
